


An accident is not a coincident

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Im tired and wanted johnlock awkward talks. It's brief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An accident is not a coincident

"Oh. Bloody. Fuck." John remembers last night. The booze. If everything that is replaying in his head is real and happened, John realizes just how bad he needs to stop drinking.

"I thought s-surely you were asexual! I even looked up all the shhhhhit to be sure!" John was drunk, sitting on the armrest of Sherlock's chair, staring down at the man.  
"THEN!" He winks, "I see you with Jannet, no, Janine. And I knew I lost my chance. If only I knew..."  
Sherlock takes John's beer away, "John we should discuss this when you're-"  
"What, sober? You are f-fucking hilarious if you think I'd tell you how I feel, sober!" John's hand goes to Sherlock's chest, to push him back to his seat, then moves to side straddle him.  
"You don't feel anything! You're just grieving after losing your wife. You need to sleep it off." Sherlock's eyes darted from John's hand on his chest, to John's lanky arm, to those lips.  
John pouts, "then tuck me in"

Scrapping a hand over his face, John gets out of bed, he was going to face the detective head on. And why not? Only his sexuality would be questioned and heart jammed into his lungs.  
Sherlock stood facing the counter, tall and briskly moving about making tea. "Have you sobered down?"  
Scratching his ear, John replies, "sobered enough to forget half of the embarrassing part."  
The detective laughs at that quietly, setting a mug down. "Then, I give you two choices. I'll be blunt about it and you cannot over react. Or." Sherlock sits and waits for John to join across the table. "I can describe exactly what happened and I'll force you to analyze every detail."  
This was cold. But logical.  
"So, I'm fucked either way?" John sips.  
"Quite literally"  
The mug hits hard on the wood table, "Wha-? Did we?"  
Sherlock is quick to get uncomfortable, a hand running through his tangled, unbrushed hair. "No! Nonono, not quite, yes, no." He looks at the other man's energetic response, "We were both very inebriated, someone went down on someone, and then you passed out."

There was a breath. A faint memory danced in John's head. Of skin. Belt loops. Zippers. Buttons. Tongue. And John felt it the moment he woke up that he had one fabulous orgasm the night before.

"You went down on me?" John asked, mostly to himself but it slipped out.  
Sherlock grew pale and let a smile loose. "No."  
A brow furrowed, "but, Sherlock, I had an-"  
The smile grew, "oh I made sure you did"

Another second of silence, tea being sipped.

"I know I should be more self conscious, but isn't it a coincidence that you and me ended up together by accident?"

Sherlock frowned, "it wasn't an accident, John. I want you to know that. And accidents are never associated with coincidences. Not now. They don't exist."

Leaning across the table, reaching to grasp the pale, knobby wrist in his own, John whispered, "you were never a coincidence, Sherlock, you were my fate."

**Author's Note:**

> I write way better normally but I typed this all on my phone and I'm not about to write a good story until I get a computer.


End file.
